Samantha Spinner and the Spectacular Specs
Page 17
“Everything Uncle Paul said was really true,” she mused.
She spotted a drawing of two people. One waved a stick. The other sat by a large string instrument.
She smiled.
“Cello lessons,” she said, and pushed.
Something clicked, and a section of the wall slid open. It revealed a small compartment about a foot wide and a foot deep. A glass bottle, filled with pebbles, stood in the center. The word Lima was etched on the outside.
Samantha put on the purple glasses. Yellow letters glowed in the compartment behind the bottle.
NO PLACE IS IN THE MIDDLE
OF NOWHERE.
Samantha stared at the message for another moment. She took a deep breath and held it. Then she looked at the map of Peru above the compartment and exhaled.
“This is your lucky day, after all,” she said. “You get to skip that llama.”
On the map was a stone fortress surrounded by three mountain peaks.
“We’re here,” she said, pointing.
Nipper came closer to investigate.
A dozen straight lines extended from Machu Picchu, fanning out in every direction. Each line had a different number. Samantha pointed to a short line that ended on the coast.
“Lima,” she said. “Six.”
She picked up the bottle and shook six pebbles out into her hand. Then she put the bottle back in its place and stowed her sunglasses in her purse.
“Follow me,” said Samantha.
She took one last look at the map room, knowing she would be back. She flipped over the silver dome and led Nipper out the door, through the square room, and outside to the terrace.
Dennis was already outside. Since the clown had left he’d been searching the area for more snacks. They saw him trotting busily around the narrow, grassy field, scraping the ground with his cone as he sniffed for granola crumbs.
“I hope you enjoyed my snacks, old pal,” Nipper muttered.
“Wruf,” Dennis replied.
“Come on,” said Samantha. “Make yourself useful and help me find six holes.”
“Holes?” asked Nipper. “What size?”
Samantha smiled.
“Larger than chocolate chips, but smaller than malted milk balls,” she replied. “This big.”
She held up one of the pebbles and winked.
They walked up the stairs, through the gap in the wall, and headed across the clearing.
“Aren’t you going to use the Plans?” Nipper asked.
She shook her head.
“I checked before we got here. This secret isn’t on the umbrella,” she answered.
She pointed to a set of stone steps.
“Whatever we’re looking for, it’s probably on a ledge,” she said.
They reached a small, grass-covered landing. A large, flat stone rested in the center.
“Here we go,” she said, pointing to the slab.
It had six small holes in a row.
One by one, she dropped a stone into each hole. As she dropped the last pebble, she heard a sound like the crack of a whip, followed by a loud twang.
“Take a closer look over there,” Nipper said, pointing above a wall at the edge of the landing.
The mountain peak beyond wobbled.
Samantha squinted. In the distance was a wide chair, the kind you’d see on a ski lift. Painted to look like the mountain and sky behind it, it was almost invisible. It rocked ever so gently from a sky-colored cable.
“Double-triple super-sneaky,” said Nipper.
They climbed onto the chair. Then Samantha leaned forward and picked up Dennis. She wedged the pug between herself and Nipper and pulled a long seat belt across their laps.
“Get ready,” she said, snapping the buckle. “Now, rock.”
She and her brother leaned forward and back several times. The chair started swinging. They felt it drop a few inches. The chair moved along the cable.
“Hang on,” said Samantha.
The chair eased out over the edge of the terrace—and kept going. Looking down, Samantha saw a sheer cliff plunging hundreds of feet into a ravine. She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. The chair rolled along, dangling from the cable and rocking gently as it carried them through the sky. Slowly, she let out her breath, relaxed, and started to enjoy the ride.
The ruins of Machu Picchu shrank behind them as they sped through mountain peaks and clusters of pine trees. They raced over lakes. Far below, a locomotive chugged along, hugging a hill. They quickly overtook it.
Faster and faster, they zoomed down the cable. Samantha scanned the sky for clowns or balloons. She didn’t see any.
“The SUN is going to know about Uncle Paul and New York City,” she said. “And the PSST map room.”
“They’ll use the secrets to launch an all-out rubber pancake and circus peanut attack,” said Nipper.
Samantha thought about the ridiculous clowns as she gazed far ahead.
She smiled.
“That clown was too busy bothering us and looking for Uncle Paul,” she said. “I don’t think he even noticed the map room.”
“He didn’t take a closer look at things,” said Nipper, nodding.
“That’s right,” she answered. “And we just sent all of the SUN to the same place at the same time. I think Uncle Paul wanted that to happen.”
Lima appeared in the distance.
“And you know what else?” she asked.
Nipper shook his head. The breeze blew his hair wildly.
“I don’t think these ridiculous clowns are our biggest danger,” she said.
“Really?” said Nipper. “But they’re so awful!”
“When things get awful, have a waffle!” she said.
“Give it a rest, Sam,” said Nipper. “You’re trying a little too hard to be like Uncle Paul now.”
They zoomed into a tunnel. Their ears popped, and everything went black.
“You there, Sam?” asked Nipper.
“Where else would I be?” she replied.
Overhead, sparks flew from the cable. The tunnel glowed orange. Gradually, a light appeared in the distance, growing larger as they started to slow down.
Poppity-poppity-poppity-poppity-poppity-pow!
They rolled across a long stretch of cable wrapped in plastic packing material. Smoothly, the chair slowed to a crawl.
“Bubble wrap,” said Nipper. “Is there any problem it can’t solve?”
They glided into the round cement chamber with the scaffolding. They were back beneath the plaza in Lima. Samantha stepped onto the landing. Nipper passed her the pug.
“It’s almost time for our family trip to New York City,” she told him. “And opening night of Scarlett Hydrangea’s Secret of the Nile.”
“Wait,” said Nipper. “Now you’re looking forward to seeing Buffy’s play?”
“Not really,” she replied. “But I think that’s where we’ll block the SUN.”
Together, they slidewalked home.
Section 07, Detail ORPUZZL3
Lucy the Elephant
“Lucy the Elephant” is a six-story, elephant-shaped building in Margate City, New Jersey, two miles south of Atlantic City.
In 1881, James V. Lafferty built the unusual structure to promote real estate sales and attract tourists.
It is constructed of wood and tin sheeting.
Lucy is the oldest surviving roadside tourist attraction in America.
• • •
Do NOT attempt to slide down the inside of Lucy’s trunk!
It is a dead end. You will get stuck at the bottom and you’ll have to wait for someone to come and fish you out.
The elephant’s left front leg, however, conceals a ladder down to a kogelbaan, or marble run, stati
on. Enter this secret chamber and climb into a giant marble.
You can roll from here to a dozen locations across the United States, including Seattle, Washington, and Mitchell, South Dakota.
* * *
Samantha had big plans to sleep in on Sunday morning. It didn’t happen. There was too much to think about. By seven a.m., she was sitting at her desk, tapping her yellow notepad with a pencil.
“Ridiculous clowns,” she muttered. “They’re probably already in New York City.”
Samantha started to worry about the SUN. Then she stopped and smirked. Maybe the antisocial clowns couldn’t travel by airplane. They’d have to take off their big shoes. They’d have to get unbearably close to security guards and squeeze in beside sweaty nervous flyers, babies with full diapers, and thrifty passengers with homemade tuna and onion sandwiches.
She took out a map of the United States.
“Reedsburg…Sauk City…,” she said, tapping all the towns around Baraboo. “Wisconsin Dells.”
A brand-new set of loud noises exploded from Nipper’s room. They included snapping, bumping, and furniture-scraping-on-the-floor. She tried to ignore all of it, but the sounds made it hard to concentrate on secrets and clowns. She sighed heavily, picked up volume III of The World’s Deadliest Animals, and headed into her brother’s room.
Nipper was standing on his bed, clutching a pillow. The Komodo dragon stood close to the bed, reared back on its hind legs. Its tail swished wildly and thumped against the floor as it snapped at him.
“Easy, Kym,” said Nipper, waving the pillow.
The lizard hissed and snapped again, narrowly missing his feet.
“She seems a little peppier today, don’t you think?” asked Nipper.
It snapped again. This time, one of its fangs caught Nipper’s pillow. It jerked its head, ripping the fabric and tearing a big chunk of foam from the pillow.
“Uh-oh. I’m going to want that back at bedtime.” Nipper leaned over the edge of the mattress and tried to pick up the pieces, but the lizard snapped again. He pulled his arms close to his body and stood back up.
Samantha didn’t walk any farther into the room. She waved volume III of The World’s Deadliest Animals at her brother.
“I read about your stupid lizard,” she said. “In captivity, Komodo dragons eat every other day.”
Nipper watched her, trying to follow what she was saying.
“As far as I can tell, that horrible lizard is eating a dozen chinchillas over the course of every two days,” she continued.
“So?” Nipper asked.
“So!” she fired back at him. “As soon as all the chinchillas are gone, that monster is going to eat Dennis…then you…then me!”
“Me before you?” asked Nipper. “How come?”
“I was guessing he’d eat from smallest to big— That’s not important!” she shouted. “I don’t really know how long it takes before it eats us all.”
Her brother looked puzzled.
“Hold on!” he said. “I know just the guy who can figure this out.”
Before Samantha could stop him, he hopped off the bed, zipped around the Komodo dragon, skipped past her, and sped down the stairs.
She looked at the lizard. It looked back, wiggling its long, forked tongue as it slowly crept toward her.
“Hi, Pop,” said Nipper, walking through his father’s open office door. He made sure not to step on any stray papers or tools or electrical gadgets.
George Washington Spinner sat at his desk, holding a small, glowing lightbulb in one hand and shining it on several lengths of wire.
“Oh. Hi, son,” he said, putting down the gadget and looking up from his work.
“I’ve got a puzzle I’m trying to solve,” said Nipper. “It has numbers in it.”
“Ah…math,” said Mr. Spinner.
“Let’s pretend,” said Nipper. “Suppose someone sends me eighteen candy bars twelve times. And then I start eating six candy bars every day.”
His father was listening carefully and nodding.
“After four weeks,” Nipper continued, “how long do I have until I run out of candy bars, and I get hungry and start eating Dennis—I mean, other things in the house?”
“Hmmm. Candy bars,” said Mr. Spinner.
“Yeah,” said Nipper. “I know you’re all about lightbulbs. But maybe some of that science works with chocolate, too.”
Mr. Spinner looked at him thoughtfully. Nipper was sure this was not the time to bring giant lizards into the discussion. His dad calculated in his head. He took out a pencil and wrote on a pad of graph paper.
STARVING = (CHOCOLATE × WEEKS / 2) – (EAT × 3.5)
“Eighteen times twelve is two hundred sixteen,” said Mr. Spinner. “Subtract thirty-five times five and you’ll have almost a week remaining. To be precise, you’ll have exactly—”
“Okay. That’s what I thought,” said Nipper. “Thanks.”
“On the other hand,” Mr. Spinner said, “if you want a solution based upon the number of calories per hour, then you should multiply—”
“No, we’re good,” said Nipper, cutting him off. “I’ve got what I need.”
He started to leave.
“Just a minute, son,” said Mr. Spinner. “What’s gotten you into problem solving? I’ve always thought you didn’t enjoy calculations or analysis.”
“I’ve developed a deep love of math,” Nipper said. “I’ve decided that numbers and equations are almost as interesting as major league baseball.”
Mr. Spinner raised his eyebrows. He had a strange expression on his face. Nipper left him in his office and skipped up the stairs.
“Okay, Sam,” Nipper called. “I think I’ve got it figured out.”
The door to his sister’s room was open.
“You still around?” he asked.
He leaned in through the open door but saw no one. He heard movement across the hall. He headed to his room and pushed the door open. Samantha was standing beside his desk.
“Dad helped me calculate,” he told her. “A dozen chinchillas times twelve minus ten times five. Eighteen times ten is one hundred eighty. We have at least a week before we need to worry about—”
Samantha stood motionless, with her hands at her sides. The Komodo dragon slinked slowly around her in a tight circle.
“A dozen is twelve,” she said through clenched teeth. “Not eighteen.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course,” said Nipper. “I haven’t seen any chinchillas around for a while. I figured something was up.”
“They’re all gone,” she said softly.
The lizard stared up at Samantha. It swayed its head from side to side with its mouth open, hissing like a big, leaky balloon.
The Komodo dragon looked at Nipper and snapped twice. It turned back to Samantha and opened its mouth wider than before. Globs of clear goo dripped from the top row of its razor-sharp teeth.
Samantha reached for volume III of The World’s Deadliest Animals. She picked it up and held it out in front of her. The lizard eyed the heavy, leather-bound book and shrank back. She opened the book and quickly flipped through the pages.
“ ‘What to do when a Komodo dragon gets hungry,’ ” she read.
The lizard sprang forward and clamped its jaws on the open book. It hissed and shook its head, shredding the pages. Bits of cover fell to the floor and strips of paper filled the air.
Samantha knelt, keeping an eye on the lizard as she gathered torn pages. With the book still sandwiched in its mouth, the creature hissed and moved toward her.
“Read the book!” Nipper shouted.
The lizard jerked its head around to look at him. The mangled book slid from its mouth and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. The lizard began to move toward Nipper.
Nipper had backed into the corner and was sitting o
n the floor. He looked up at the Komodo dragon looming over him. The creature stood on its hind legs. It hissed loud and long. It sounded like someone had turned on a fire hose.
Samantha held a pom-pom of shredded paper in her hands.
“ ‘Talk to it. Say something in a low, calm voice,’ ” she said, trying to read the ball of torn pages. “Wait! No! That’s for Kodiak bears.”
Nipper closed his eyes. In a low, calm voice, he began: “In a mist-covered ocean far, far from home, there’s a mountainous island where dinosaurs roam. While it sounds like a place to amuse and delight you—watch out! Hungry creatures are waiting to bite you.”
The lizard froze. It stared at Nipper with cold black eyes. It closed its mouth and sank to the floor. It dug its sharp gray claws into the wood and inched closer to Nipper. It rested its head on his lap and began to purr as it slowly closed its eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Samantha stood still, stunned. She listened to the gentle purring of the Komodo dragon in her brother’s lap. Was the creature dreaming of a mountainous island far, far away?
“What on earth is going on in here?” said Dr. Suzette Spinner, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, as she marched through Nipper’s open bedroom door.
The rodent-and-lizard expert looked around. Nipper’s chair rested on its side. Cardboard, leather, and paper littered the floor. A chunk of a pillow lay in the corner. A faint smell of cumin hung in the air.
Something colorful caught her eye. It might have been a picture of a cardinal or a starling at one point, but she couldn’t be certain.
Samantha stood with her back to a wall, silent and motionless. Across the room, Nipper sat quietly in a corner, petting an adolescent Komodo dragon.
“Come with me,” said Dr. Spinner.
“But, Mom,” said Nipper, pointing to the huge lizard resting on his lap.
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “We’re just going to the kitchen.”
“He?” asked Nipper.
Dr. Spinner nodded.
Nipper looked down at the lizard.